Brian Cox’s Erect Penis Can’t Save This Dreadful Movie

It’s unfair to assume that just because a film receives a certain sort of release—be it in a “slow” month like February, or with a minimal advertising campaign—that it’s subpar; studios can’t necessarily be trusted to assess the quality of their own projects. Thus, the fact that The Parenting is premiering on Max at a time when Warner Bros. is moving away from such a distribution strategy is not an inherently bad sign.

That said, sometimes appearances aren’t deceiving.

A dismal misfire that strains to meld Meet the Parents-style comedy with The Exorcist-grade horror, The Parenting, premiering Mar. 13, is a depressing reminder that two great tastes don’t always go great together. Despite featuring an all-star cast that includes illustrious HBO veterans Brian Cox (Succession) and Edie Falco (The Sopranos) as well as the network’s current The White Lotus star Parker Posey and, for good measure, Lisa Kudrow (Friends) and Dean Norris (Breaking Bad), this story of a family get-together undone by the undead boasts no laughs and fewer thrills—only a litany of scenes that may cause sore throats from incessant groaning.

The Parenting opens with its sole good joke: In 1983, tearful mother Donna (Kate Avallone) cries to her teen daughter Allie (Chloe Sciore) that she’s missing the finale of M*A*S*H, and “he just spelled goodbye in rocks! And Hawkeye sees it!”

These two, along with son Jamie (Johnny Hawe), are subsequently dispatched by a demon whose arrival is preceded by wallpaper peeling off the walls. In the present, Rohan (Nik Dodani) and Josh (Brandon Flynn) are headed to that same abode for a weekend getaway with their respective mothers and fathers, who’ve never met. Rohan is planning to pop the question to Josh, regardless of his best friend Sara’s (Vivian Bang) warnings that—because he’s an uptight guy—he’s going to blow the proposal. When they arrive at the rented house, they’re warmly greeted by the owner Brenda (Posey), whose hair is in a braid that extends down her back and who, upon hearing that Rohan and Josh are gay, weirdly replies, “That’ll work.”

Rohan is nervous that Josh won’t wow his taciturn dad Frank (Cox) and demanding mother Sharon (Falco), not simply because they’re difficult to please but because Josh has recently ditched his retail job in order to pursue a music career and he’s overly eager to quell his anxiety with mango gummies.

As written by Kent Sublette and directed by Craig Johnson (The Skeleton Twins), The Parenting intends for Rohan to be endearingly frazzled, his fussing and fretting the result of a sweet desire to have his big plan go off without a hitch. Mostly, though, he comes across as shrill and annoying, and that’s similarly true of Josh, who lays the charm on chokingly thick. Striving for cuteness, they’re borderline unbearable facsimiles of familiar rom-com protagonists.

Rohan and Josh’s banter about whether they’d prefer a cat that constantly says “F--- it” or has a big butt is an immediate tip-off to their—and the proceedings’—humorlessness. That continues apace once they’re joined at the house by Frank and Sharon as well as Josh’s dad Cliff (Norris) and mom Liddy (Kudrow), the last of whom brought “crazy pasta” for dinner, wears pajamas decorated with taxi cabs, and is kooky in that prototypical Kudrow way.

These two sets of parents aren’t compatible and their initial dinner together is a dud, lowlighted by Josh freaking out after he reads the Wi-Fi password aloud and is promptly grabbed under the table by a monstrous hand. Later, Frank signs onto the Internet with the same password and is magically drawn to the basement router, where he’s accosted by an unholy creature that takes control of his body.

While it’s already demonstrated its feeble wit via a sequence in which everyone assumes that mysterious dead-of-night banging is the sound of a couple having sex, The Parenting really gets going once Frank becomes a demon’s puppet. Walking in on his clan fully nude and erect, and rotating his head 180 degrees à la Linda Blair, Cox’s paterfamilias is in a hellish way, and director Johnson amplifies his nastiness by having him spew homophobic vitriol at Rohan and Josh.

This is not funny and, quite frankly, makes no sense (except insofar as the fiend is super old and mean), and it’s not helped by two separate scenes in which Cox vomits uncontrollably and, afterwards, is decorated with second-rate monster make-up. The esteemed actor is better than this nonsense, and so too is Falco, who’s saddled with a clichéd role that asks her to be snooty and cold and, afterwards, kind and tolerant.

Between this and No Good Deed, 2025 is proving to be unkind to Kudrow, whose off-kilter weirdo routine—including, here, a penchant for apologizing after swearing profanely—inspires merely eyerolls. At least she’s given something to do; Norris mostly stands around, whether that’s the joke (it is, in one instance) or not.

Eventually, Sara crashes this gathering for no good reason (a tacked-on explanation doesn’t cut it) and competes with Rohan to be the film’s most strident character. Zombies are next on the docket, as is the climactic reappearance of Posey, who mercifully exudes some actual bizarre energy. Even then, however, Johnson doesn’t know what to do with her, and his tale concludes with such a half-hearted shrug that it seems like he (and everyone else) more or less quit on trying to tidily wrap things up.

“All Will Die” announces a bloody message on a bathroom mirror. Alas, that’s a promise The Parenting refuses to fulfill, instead goofing around with bits—such as a demon dog biting one mom’s arm and being beaten to death with a mallet—that are neither amusing nor terrifying. Hearing Cox repeatedly talk about his penis size might have sounded inspired on the page (though it’s doubtful), yet in practice, it just resonates as desperate and depressing. After one of this group’s many arguments, Liddy opines, “Everyone is very angry.” Anyone who sits through this mess will know how they feel.